Tim's journal

Taking metaphors too far since 1995

Well, Jesus was a homeless ladWith an unwed mother and an absent dadAnd I really don't think he would have gotten that farIf Newt, Pat and Jesse had followed that starSo let's all sing out praises toThat longhaired radical socialist Jew

When Jesus taught the people heWould never charge a tuition feeHe just took some fishes and some breadAnd made up free school lunches insteadSo let's all sing out praises toThat long-haired radical socialist Jew

He healed the blind and made them seeHe brought the lame folks to their feetRich and poor, any time, anywhereJust pioneering that free health careSo let's all sing out praises toThat longhaired radical socialist Jew

Jesus hung with a low-life crowdBut those working stiffs sure did him proudSome were murderers, thieves and whoresBut at least they didn't do it as legislatorsSo let's all sing out praises toThat longhaired radical socialist Jew

Jesus lived in troubled timesthe religious right was on the riseOh what could have saved him from his terrible fate?Separation of church and state.So let's all sing out praises toThat longhaired radical socialist Jew

Sometimes I fall into deep despairWhen I hear those hypocrites on the airBut every Sunday gives me hopeWhen pastor, deacon, priest, and popeAre all singing out their praises toSome longhaired radical socialist Jew.

All the streets are filled with laughter and lightAnd the music of the seasonAnd the merchants windows are all brightWith the faces of the childrenAnd the families hurrying into their homesAs the sky darkens and it freezesWill be gathered in around the hearths and tablesGiving thanks for god's gracesAnd the birth of the rebel Jesus

Well they call him by the Prince of PeaceAnd they call him by the SaviourAnd they pray to him upon the seasAnd in every bold endeavourAs they fill his churches with their pride and goldAnd their faith in him increasesBut they've turned the nature that I worship inFrom a temple to a robbers den...In the words of the rebel Jesus

Oh we guard our homes with locks and gunsAnd we guard our fine possessionsAnd once a year when Christmas comesWe give to our relationsAnd perhaps we give a little to the poorIf the generosity should sieze usBut if any one of us should interfereIn the business of why they are poorThey get the same as the rebel Jesus

But please forgive me if I seem To take the tone of judgementFor I've no wish to come between This day and your enjoymentIn this life of hardship and of earthly toilWe have need of anything that frees usSo I bid you pleasure and I bid you cheerFrom a heathen and a paganOn the side of the rebel Jesus